


Not Of My Kind

by redvelvetfics



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood, F/F, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvelvetfics/pseuds/redvelvetfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>written by kimnams</p><p>Seulgi didn’t expect such a chiselled form from someone with such a cute and full face, but then again Wendy probably didn’t expect a naked Korean girl to come from a wolf she found in the woodlands, so it’s not the biggest surprise of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Of My Kind

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt** : 114  
>  **Pairing** : Seulgi/Wendy  
>  **Rating** : NC-17  
>  **Warnings** : Vague mentions of blood, as said in the prompt. Sexual themes.  
>  **Author’s Note** : Trying out something completely different to anything I’ve ever written before, so I’m a bit anxious about how it’ll be received. I hope this is similar to what to prompter was looking for :’)

Through the gaps of the tawny bushes she spots a large, almost jet black figure by the stream. Wendy instantly monitors her every motion. It’s some sort of furry beast. She doesn’t have much of a clear view, so she can’t tell if it’s dead or just resting. Her natural curiosity diverts her attention from her hunting mission and causes her to draw forwards, footsteps light and breath trapped in her throat.

But because she’s actually a klutz, she’s met with the tell-tale snap of her stepping on a branch. She’s ready to accept her death – this hound-thing looks bigger and bigger the closer she gets – but there’s no waking and no movement aside from what might have just been a whimper.

The sound’s concerning. In fact, she soon notices the creature’s in a pool of blood.  
It’s indeed a wolf, but not your usual kind. It’s significantly larger and leaner, and one of the most gorgeous animals Wendy’s ever seen. Amongst clots and gash wounds the coat’s still glossy.

“Hello, there.” Wendy slowly reaches her hand forwards, apprehensive, but is met with no hostility. Its eyes are pleading for some sort of companionship, so Wendy doesn’t know what comes over her – it only seems right to saddle it across her shoulders and take it home.  
Besides, it’d make hunting a whole lot less lonely.

\---

Wendy settles the wolf on her workbench, bones aching but already missing the warmth of it on her shoulders. She scrambles around for some ointment and linen to clear up its wounds here and there.

“This might sting a bit.” She mutters partially to the wolf but mainly to herself, yet the wolf seems to blink and nod - which was weird. A little weird. Looks like she’s got herself a highly intelligent new friend, though.

The wolf (she now notices to be female) reacts completely passively to everything she does, which is definitely odd for such a lone beast. Wendy wonders if the thing was specially bred for some sort of human service and then strayed from the owners. Wendy wonders how she managed to get itself into this sort of mess, so built and resilient but practically left for dead in a pool of blood. Wendy wonders into the night, with the new day just on the verge of approaching, pours herself some wine and reclines in front of the fireplace to relieve her mind of all of this wondering.

Her grandfather clock clangs just a moment later.

Her body is filled with a new warm sense of company. “A new day for you and me, huh, pup?”

“I guess so,” comes an unexpected response. Wendy throws her head back.

It’s from a very naked woman in the wolf’s place who barely looks a day older than her.

Wendy’s throat dries up like a barren desert and her eyes begin to sting in shock. She considers repeating what she just said, as if the next time she looked around the wolf would still be there. She’s going insane, surely, she’s been alone and sexually desperate for so long that she’s fabricating things – fabricating random naked women in her house –

The woman who replaced the wolf gives her a sheepish smile. “The wounds disappear whenever I change form, if that’s what you’re shocked about.”

That’s what she’s shocked about. So this woman used to be a wolf and miraculously shape-shifted in complete silence, but it’s clearly more blatant to her that Wendy should be shocked by the wounds, by her newly flawless human skin. In a way it’s adorably naïve.

Her eyes are sharp and mono-lidded, dark with a sense of pleading so much like the wolf before that Wendy can’t deny this is all real and actually happening. Her hair is jet black with a partial ashy ombré, thick and glossy and cascading over her petite shoulders.

Wendy stands up without thinking. But standing, she can admire the girl even better. She’s skinny, tanned, incredibly toned...

Adrenaline pulses through Wendy’s veins and her hands start to sweat.

“Hey.” Wendy sounds out, trying so hard not to sound like a preteen that it comes out sounding quite deep. It’s almost suggestive, which should make her feel confused about herself and her motives but it kind of doesn’t because everything going on is already weird enough.

The girl’s smirk is slightly shy, slightly something else. “It’s not like we’ve only just met, really.”

“No, not really,” Wendy bites back the thoughts of the wolf she knew a few minutes ago because now she’s staring down the same thing, except now something a lot more human and a lot more attractive and a lot more nude, in a hot flush. “But not like this.”

She raises her glass and, without thinking, winks. The girl’s eyes widen slowly in registering this. Wendy’s mind uses this time to catch up with her body. 

The wink was probably totally the wine’s fault. But it also didn’t really feel like an accident.

“Oh.” Is all the girl has to say – she scratches the side of her neck and stares at her feet, not sure how to judge this new tone. She’s shuffling a bit, reaches over to fiddle with one of the damp flannels Wendy used to tend her wounds, and squeezes it firmly in her hand.

The girl might’ve said something else but Wendy’s so focused on the droplets of water from the flannel trickling down the girl’s toned leg that everything else fades out. Streamline drops fall across her inner thigh. Wendy swallows harshly and snaps out of it.

“So are you usually a wolf or usually a human?” This is a more trivial question, perfect. There’s a dampening between Wendy’s own thighs that she’s really trying to ignore.

“It’s, like, 50:50. Whenever it goes midnight I’m supposed to shape-shift, so I spend a day as a wolf and then a day as a human like an ongoing cycle. But for a while I’ve been stuck as a wolf because I’ve been too injured to shift,” The girl nods, her cheeks now a light pink, “So thanks.”

Sober Wendy detaches Drunk Wendy’s attention from the girl’s abs to look at her face and pay proper attention to what she’s saying. “Oh?” She coughs modestly. “My pleasure.”

“The human form is a lot more fun, anyway.”

There’s something to her tone that Wendy really likes the sound of, and her smile is really, really charming. It’s adorably charming and yet she looks a few inches up and sees such a dark and daring suggestion in the girl’s eyes. Wendy doesn’t know how she should be feeling. This conversation so far has been an awkward exchange of handling having a fucking werewolf in her house, shy small talk and a suffocating feeling of what Wendy can only believe is sexual tension.

Wendy rakes her hand through her crimson hair and tracks the girl’s eyes. And the suggestive nature to her eyes intensifies for a moment, her neck clenching and unclenching. The tension’s so thick in the room now that it could fog up a pair of glasses.

Wendy steps closer to the girl and drags her hand across the table surface.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Seulgi, Kang Seulgi.” It’s pretty, it suits her. And Seulgi’s staring at Wendy’s hand movements, almost in apprehension. “What’s yours?”

“I’m Son Seungwan,” Wendy drawls. Carefully, she lifts her hand to brush against Seulgi’s arm in order to test the waters. The flinch is minimal, so she holds it. Her skin is so soft between her fingers. “But you can call me Wendy.”

“I like that.” Seulgi mutters.

Wendy’s laugh is low, “My nickname or my hand?”

Seulgi reads her with eyes shrouded with mystery, her eyes getting darker and darker. And the proud canine instinct within her seems really instilled in the way she then cocks her head.

“You can be the judge.”

This is it. The tension’s been broken, and now there’s no going back. Tipsy Wendy feels very much as though she should at least try to rethink this, but then again Tipsy Wendy doesn’t have to worry about what Completely Sober Wendy would be thinking right now if she saw herself. Moments are supposed to be lived in, right?

Wendy tilts Seulgi’s head back into a position where she can face her and stares deeper into her eyes, constantly cautious. But she just ends up thoughtlessly kissing her. It’s only chaste. 

It was only chaste until Wendy finds herself pinned against the edge of the table with so much force that it hurts a bit. Seulgi’s running her hands all over her body, her fingers slightly clawing due to natural instinct but her palms still ever so timid and unsure in where to place themselves. Wendy laughs into the kiss, takes Seulgi’s frantic arms by the wrists and guides them to her breasts.

“You know,” Seulgi breaks the kiss and clears her throat, her hands becoming tense in the same way an awkward teenage boy’s hands touching boobs for the first time would which Wendy regards with a smirk, “I’m not wearing any clothes.”

“I saw that.”

Seulgi slowly takes her hands off. “And you’re wearing clothes.”

Wendy snorts as soon as it stutters out of her mouth. Seulgi’s hot as fuck, no question, yet still has the mindset to make her seem like the most adorable little thing in a situation like this.

“I catch your drift.” Is all Wendy says after a pause, so she leans back and pulls her blouse over her ears, exposing a black bra and defined torso. Seulgi didn’t expect such a chiselled form from someone with such a cute and full face, but then again Wendy probably didn’t expect a naked Korean girl to come from a wolf she found in the woodlands, so it’s not the biggest surprise of the day.

Wendy could only fully appreciate just how much of a frustrated mess she got herself into when her hunting jeans came off and she found herself having to peel her underwear off her thighs.

Seulgi has to stop herself from audibly growling at so much exposed skin, still so radiant in a room only lit by a tiny fireplace. She grabs the flannel from the table and wets it in a bowl of water, then places it over Wendy’s cleavage, squeezes the water from it as Wendy looks at her with confusion. A type of exhilarating confusion she likes.

The water runs down Wendy’s body. “Whoops,” Seulgi says seductively, and begins to gently drag her tongue over the drops on her stomach, down to below her belly button, getting dangerously closer to her pubic bone. Her ministrations get rougher the further down she traces. 

But once she gets to Wendy’s clit she pauses and shoots Wendy a smug glare, which is Wendy’s cue to take a serious intake of breath - before Seulgi flicks her tongue across it like a legitimate animal.

Wendy throws her head back and moans through her throat. Tonight will most certainly be wild.


End file.
